The Diary Of Nico Di Angelo
by PrinceOfDeath816
Summary: The title says it all. A very short insight into the life of the Son of Hades, and his thoughts .Post House Of Hades. My first fanfic!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer- I do not own Percy Jackson , everything is owned by Rick Riordan

Dear Diary,

It is safe to say that I never fit in and probably never will. After all,

I wasn't just a demigod.

I wasn't a demigod son of hades

I wasn't just a nyctophilic demigod son of Hades.

Oh no. I, Nico di Angelo was a **gay **nyctophilic demigod son of hades.

The horror.

You would probably be thinking it doesn't get much worse than this, right?

Wrong.

See, one of the disadvantages of being a son of hades is that death is a luxury you cannot afford. I have literally tried every single method to enter the underworld dead. Jumping off the Statue of Liberty, unsuccessful. The same could be said for plunging into Tartarus, pissing of Nyx, getting captured and tortured by Gaia's cronies,etc. I can go on and on, but I think I've proven my point. Every time I try to end my worthless life, Alecto and her sisters, or Thantos, Escort me to my father's palace, first class. Then he gives me the same old lecture- I'm Disappointed in you, what would Bianca think, Blah Blah Blah. The Bianca part kinda makes me angry, cause every time he mentioned her, I start getting flashbacks about her and mom. When I've recovered, I've either managed to shadow-travel myself to China, or I'm standing behind a huge army of undead soilders, who look pretty pissed at being summoned from Elysium. Anyway, to cure my so called 'insanity' dad made me work in the Underworld. That was going pretty fine, until Cerebrus managed to chew the Mythyomagic Figurine Bianca had left me. Needless to say, I would've given him pain, but for 3 reasons, A, he was Mrs.O Leary's best friend; B, Its Kinda hard to kill someone who's already dead; and C, dad loves him more than he loves me. After that incident, I hardly visit Cerebrus. But don't worry about him. When he's not in the underworld or playing with Mrs. O Leary, he guards the house of a legacy of Hectate, some guy called Dumbledore. His life's fine. Unlike mine.

After Jason revealed my secret to both camps,(that bastard) I had no home left.

Camp Half- Blood ignored me, and the seven of the Prophecy hardly acknowledged my presence. Whenever I came near them, they suddenly got interested in the colour of their shoes. I was on my way to kill Jason for making my life worse than that of a puppy stuck in Tartarus, But then I figured his death would bring misery to a whole lot of people,(Percy included), unlike mine. And Camp Jupiter never thought sons of Hades were _optimus and maximus_ , so I couldn't go there either.

I left. Now I shuttle between Alaska, Olympus, the Underworld, and Italy. However I have no place left to call home. I would've gone insane, but Hestia and Calypso(she's free now) as well as Hades, visit me sometimes. Other times, I resurrect people to give me company. You have no idea how charming a dead Blackbeard can be! When even he can't calm my mind, I go visit the Few living people whose attitude towards me never changed. Namely Grover, Tyson, Reyna, and Rachel. Apparently some people Don't give a damn about me being gay.

Still, I have never truly felt comfortable anywhere. As an early death isn't an option

I bide my time in the world of the living. Not lonely enough to go insane, not social enough to be happy. All I do is endure the torture that is life.

Everybody got their happy ending. Percy and Annabeth, Jason and Piper, Frank and Hazel, Leo and Festus and Calypso. Where was mine?

That's when I realized the truth. Happy endings only exist for the perfect, for the loved, for _them. _As for me, the closest thing I will ever get to a happy ending will be when Thantos comes to collect my soul, and I will be reunited with mom in Elysium. For now, all I can do is **wait.**

Signing off for now,(and hopefully forever)

Nico Di Angelo


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer- Telling you I owned Percy Jackson would be the final proof of my insanity. You believing Rick Riordan doesn't own Percy Jackson would mean someone's getting a new neighbour in rehab.

Dear Diary,

There are two kinds of people in this universe. The living, and the dead. **Wait,** scratch that- there are 3 kinds of people in this world. The living, the dead, and then there's **me**.

The idiot who believed he could be part of both. If only.

Now I'm part of neither. I don't know who I am anymore. Go Figure.

I apologize for starting my entries on such a pessimistic note. Guess undead Blackbeard is finally rubbing off me. I'll remind him to stop smoking marijuana when I resurrect him next.(that would be when I get hold of food, which usually takes few weeks) But I kinda have an excuse for being like that don't I? I mean, look at me(not literally, you'll be scarred for life and beyond) I'm gay homeless demigod son of Hades, whose closest thing to family would be a father who's visited 9 times in 15 years, a mother who was struck down by Zeus when I was 4, and a sister who died and chose to be reborn rather than waiting for me to join her. That's me and the life I'm forced to endure.

But don't worry too much about me. I'm used to being neglected. See, I figured out the truth a couple of months ago. People(me in particular) Don't always(and in my case, never ever) get what they deserve. If you have a pretty face and know your way with words and money, then sure, Life's a walk in Olympus for you. But for the rest of us, Life, _not death_

gives the most misery.

For me, life's like a rebel being crucified. The fire's not small enough to be doused, nor is it big enough to give you the pleasure of an early death. It's just enough to slowly, antagonizingly, make you suffer , to torture you.

But it's all not that bad. I sometimes come close to experiencing that odd fuzzy feeling you people call happiness when Hestia visits me for our little 'Dr. Phil' sessions. If you tell her I said that I'll personally make sure you are the main course of that fabulous banquet that is Cerebrus' dinner. Also, just a couple of years ago, dad visited me and gifted me a beautiful yet deadly sniper rifle, that is a remodel of the DSR 50. It's made of Stygian Iron and is enchanted to shoot bullets made of Celestial Bronze and plain silver(I made undead Beckendorf add that after my little encounter with Lupa). Also, it's enchanted so that it only appears when I need it. I'll admit I was tempted to shoot myself with it, but that would just be a waste of such good bullets. Plus, it wouldn't really matter now. Just few days ago Alecto broke the news to me that Mom chose rebirth. So I guess there is no silver lining for me after all, even in death. Wow. Seems the fates just loves knocking me down again and again. At least them old hags get some entertainment. I just love the way things are going. That, FYI, was sarcasm.

On a different but not unrelated note, Reyna and Grover suggested I should probably spend a little father-son time with Dad. I would have choked on my Gatorade when they said that if I had enough mortal money to buy a pack. Obviously, that idea has not worked. Anyway, I won't be writing for a few days now. Tyson is going to visit me when I travel from the Underworld to Alaska. If he gets hold of this and decides to read, I'm screwed. Yet again.

That's all for now, I guess.

I have to shadow- travel to Italy. Mrs O Leary is probably wrecking havoc in the family mansion.(that thing is in ruins already)

Nico Di Angelo


End file.
